Sing a Nightingale's Song
by Tori-chan
Summary: Anonymous notes and a midnight meeting in the rain . . . ((Short, WAFF-filled— some Ranma/Akane, but mostly Ukyo/Ryoga.))


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**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Ranma ½ or it's characters, so don't sue me. You wouldn't get anything... I have no money! ^_~**  
**C&C is very welcome! I always want feedback, even if it's just dropping a line and saying, 'Hey, I read your fic.' Email me at saezuru@hotmail.com. Thanks for reading!**

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_Sing a Nightingale's Song_

  
  
  
__The cars drive by, as the evening rush hour fades with the daylight. The noise made by the rushing wind from the cars gets less and less as the night goes on, until a passing car is a rare occurrence. All of the neon lights of the city gleam like usual, but tonight they hold a certain kind of sparkle, like the promise of things to come. Crowds on the sidewalks thin and disperse, leaving only forgotten scraps of paper and lonely tatters of clothing blowing sporadically down the off-white cement to show that they had ever been there. One by one the shops and restaurants close, because they have no more customers to serve. The streets are empty now, the life on them gone as fast as the daylight goes.   
  


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Ukyo glanced behind once, to make sure no one was following her. She wasn't sure what she expected to find when she arrived, and felt rather foolish, but she was going all the same. The note, something Ukyo would never have followed had circumstances been different, was folded up neatly in her pocket. It might have been a challenge, but Ukyo thought that it didn't have the same feel as a letter of challenge. She pulled the paper out of her pocket in order to read it again, although she'd poured over it enough times to know it by heart. "Meet me at the bridge at 11:00 tonight. I want to talk to you." Ukyo's heart sped up a few beats when she considered for the millionth time just what this person might want to talk about. She never once thought that a girl might have sent it to her; the handwriting was very masculine. Usually, Ukyo would have chalked this up to Tsubasa Kurenai, or possibly Konatsu, but Konatsu had long since given up on her and Ukyo and hadn't heard from Tsubasa in over two years.   
Ukyo stopped walking for a moment. _Just what do I think I'm doing?_ Ukyo wondered, the echoes of her footsteps fading in the silence of the near-deserted street. It wasn't every day that she wandered off in the middle of the night, following some random message. What if it was all just a dumb prank, and some jackass was sniggering at her from the shadows? And yet . . . and yet, she _wanted_ to believe the note. It had been three years since Akane and Ranma had finally gotten married, and Ukyo wanted above all else to find someone she could just . . . _talk_ to. She didn't necessarily want romance of any kind-- no, she'd had quite enough of that.   
She felt a few, lonely drops of water patter onto her arms, causing the bare skin to prickle with goose-bumps. She glanced up at the sky, and saw that clouds were starting to cover the familiar constellations of stars. The rain began to come down harder, landing on her eyelashes and giving the neon lights and street lamps tiny, four-pointed halos of light. Soon, the streets were slick with water, and were quickly emptied of the few people still outside at this time of night. Ukyo began to walk quietly towards the bridge again.   
  


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Fidgeting slightly with the handle of his red, bamboo umbrella, Ryoga stood leaning against the handrails of the bridge and looking at the distorted reflection of the moon on the ripples of the water. He still hadn't quite figured out what he was doing there-- he usually didn't do what mysterious notes told him to do; not that he'd ever gotten mysterious notes before. As another rain cloud began to creep its way across the silver crescent of the moon, he carefully uncrumpled the piece of paper which he'd folded, unfolded, and refolded again out of nervousness so many times that the ink was starting to fade. "Meet me on the bridge tonight, at 11:00. I have to see you, alone." The letter was written in a rounded, obviously feminine hand and every time Ryoga read it, his heart began to pound. It wasn't Akane's handwriting . . . he knew her writing by heart, and this wasn't it. He had only briefly entertained the hope that she actually had sent him the note; he'd given up hope of her long ago, even before she and Ranma had gotten married. Ryoga could see that they loved each other. He didn't know exactly what he hoped to find tonight. Even three years since he'd lost Akane to Ranma, he _still_ wasn't quite ready to deal with the opposite sex. Not that he was ever ready.   
Ryoga had gotten a taxi driver to lead him to the bridge, and had arrived a full ten minutes early. Now, though, it felt like an eternity had passed and he was beginning to think it was all some sort of prank and that someone was laughing at his expense right now. Just before he turned to walk away, his finely tuned martial artist's instincts told him to take one last glance behind him. He did, and spotted a slender, shadowy figure waiting hesitantly at the edge of the bridge.   
  


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Ukyo, so lost in her own thoughts, hadn't noticed that she'd reached the bridge. A slight sound, perhaps that of a light footstep, forced her to look up in surprise. Before her stood a figure that was visible enough that she could tell that it was male, and nothing more. He said nothing, and Ukyo didn't feel inclined to speak either. Nothing broke the silence except the sound of the rain dancing off of the umbrella the man was holding. Almost involuntarily, Ukyo took a few steps forward, her heart in her throat. Soon, she was close enough to see his face . . .   
Ukyo blinked. "R-Ryoga? You . . ."   
Ryoga blinked owlishly back at her. ". . . Ukyo? Did you . . ."   
Ukyo fought to regain her breath. _All this time...? All this time that I've been yearning for Ranma, Ryoga had been thinking about _me_?_ Ukyo's mouth moved, but she had to try several times to speak. "I . . . you want to talk?" As soon as the words left her lips, Ukyo mentally cursed herself for sounding so stupid.   
Ryoga recovered fairly quickly from the surprise of seeing Ukyo. He'd been expecting . . . well, he _hadn't_ been expecting Ukyo. But perhaps, this was what he wanted after all. "Yeah, s-s-sure."Ryoga moved the umbrella over, to make room for Ukyo beneath it.   
She came over to stand next to him at the hand rail of the bridge. Despite the agreement to converse, neither said anything. They both looked out across the waters, at the reflection of the moon, which was now a murky light behind the clouds. Just before the silence began to get uncomfortable, the silvery call of a bird rang across the water. A nightingale . . . the messenger of love? Ukyo glanced at Ryoga, to see if he recognized the implications, and saw even through the darkness that he was blushing furiously.   
"I didn't know that nightingales lived around here," Ryoga said to break the silence. He tried not to, but he couldn't keep from glancing at Ukyo out of the corner of his eye. With a start, he realized that Ukyo was really very pretty-- and that realization made him blush that much more. He hoped that the darkness was enough to hide the flush on his face. He'd never thought of her that way before; after all, this was Ucchan, and she was always like one of the guys. But tonight . . . tonight, her hair was free and unbound, not in her usual low ponytail, and damp strands were curling around her delicate face. Her usual chef's costume accentuated her slim figure, another thing that Ryoga had never noticed before. She wasn't wearing her bandolier of throwing spatulas, nor was her battle spatula strapped to her back, and the moonlight was reflecting back at him out of her soft, hazel eyes. Suddenly, Ryoga became aware of how close she was standing to him, in order to get underneath the umbrella, and he thought that she _must_ be able to hear his heart pounding.   
"I like nightingales," Ukyo said quietly, looking straight down at the slow ripples of the water beneath the bridge, and at her murky, distorted reflection. The moon re-emerged from behind the clouds, and Ukyo could see the reflection of herself and Ryoga much clearer. "I love their song. But you're right, I don't think you usually find them around here, especially not when it's raining like this." Ukyo focused harder on Ryoga's reflection, and again her heart leapt into her throat. She realized just how enchanting he looked, with the moonlight glinting off his fangs and the breeze ruffling the midnight-black hair bound by the black-on-yellow bandanna, and Ukyo was fascinated. _Perhaps romance isn't the worst thing that could happen to me right now, after all . . ._Still staring at his reflection, she saw him watching her surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye. Surprised that he should be watching her, she looked away from the waters and up at him.   
Ryoga glanced at Ukyo again, this time catching her doing the same towards him. He saw a flush rise to her cheeks, just as he could feel on his own. ". . . ano, Ukyo . . ." he stammered, unable to shape his thoughts into the words he was trying to say.   
Suddenly Ukyo smiled shyly, a smile that lit up her face far better than the pale moonlight. "Hey, Ryo-chan . . . do you want to come to the restaurant for some okonomiyaki?"   
Ryoga suddenly found out that the young okonomiyaki chef's smiles were contagious, and nodded. "Sure, that sounds great."   
And they turned back towards Nerima and began to walk back to the restaurant through the rain, side by side under the umbrella, the nightingale trilling behind them.   
  


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Ranma lowered his hands from his lips, smiling smugly after the couple as they walked away. Then he glanced at Akane to see if she was impressed.   
She was. "Ranma, where did you learn to imitate birds so well?" She looked beautiful, Ranma thought, despite the twigs and leaves in her hair from the bush they were hiding under, and the mud smeared on her chin, and the rivulets of rainwater dripping from her dark hair.   
"It makes a good signal, if you need to communicate with someone without anyone else knowing." Ranma grinned at her. "It just seemed like the perfect thing to enhance the mood."   
Akane rolled her eyes, not liking the smug attitude one bit. "Don't you think that was laying it on a bit thick, though? Talk about cliche!"   
Ranma's grin turned to a scowl. "_They_ didn't question it, did they? They're the ones who count. Besides, just what did you _put_ in that note to Ryoga? He was blushing and stammering like a maniac!"   
Akane glared right back. "Shut up! It got him here, didn't it?" she snapped, her fingers itching to close around the handle of a mallet.   
Ranma looked like he was about to make another angry retort, when he suddenly pulled her close to him, causing her to stifle a yelp of surprise. "I love you, Akane Saotome, I really do," he breathed into her hair, reveling in this new but terribly effective way to avoid arguments before they could result in a beating.   
Akane recovered after a few moments and looked up into her husband's face, smiling. "I should hope so, you big jerk."   
Ranma didn't notice the scratching of the bushes around them, nor did he care about the rain dripping into his eyes. "You . . . are _so_ uncute . . ."   
  


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The soft, sibilant sounds of lovers' voices fade into the darkness, leaving only the faint sounds of the crickets chirping, the breeze stirring the leaves and grass, and the soft pattering of the rain against the ground. The rainwater mingles with the earth, trickling into the gullies, valleys, and pools of the land, while dream-swept clouds race across the face of the silvery thumbnail that is the moon. In the city, the lights twinkle and go out, one by one, until everything is covered by a soft, velvety blackness and the only light comes from the patches of glittering stars.   
Somewhere, softly at first but with growing fervor, a nightingale begins to sing. Its music sounds like silvery moonscapes, forgotten scraps of paper, and the promise of things to come.   
  
  
  
  



End file.
